That's taking things to the comic extreme, of course, but the point I'm making is that somewhere along the way, I went from being young to not being young. Maybe I always was in a way, but when you start covering artists who are growing up before your eyes, and you realize how long ago that was supposed to happen for you, there's a bit of a haze that you need to wade through.
Jax Hollow is a young artist finding her way, developing her identity, and wringing all she can from life. This new record is a soundtrack for that growth, telling the stories of someone garnering the experience to put her talent and drive to use. If her first record showed that Jax had the voice and the chops, this record shows she also has the songs and the maturity.
The record opens with the mission statement "Wolf In Sheepskin", where a nimble-fingered blues riff saturates the air, and Jax's voice sounds sweet as she sings about being too full of life to be held tight. There's a passion and fire in her waiting to burst out if you clutch too hard, and the music is like that as well. You can hear the amps breaking up when she digs in, but she always pulls back before ripping our faces off with a solo. She may not be tamed, but she is in control of when she leaves a mark.
"Wallflower Girl In Bloom" switches to acoustic guitars and violins, which not only highlights the youthful nuances of Jax's voice, but thematically takes us to the most organic and natural of feelings. The strings of her guitar vibrate just like the metaphorical strings of our hearts, and not having the grit of bluesy distortion on the notes allows the song to sound more honest and earnest for the decision. Compare it to "Ride Or Die" that follows, which is a lustful song with a more fleshed out sound. The power of the animalistic hunger comes through, especially when Jax opens her voice up for that soaring chorus in a way that can rightly be called a climax. It's the other side of the way love and lust can weave together, and each is given its own time in the spotlight.
I will probably be alone in this, but the bitter look back that is "Stepping Stone" is foreshadowed by the early lyric, "I thought we were sweet, like wine." Alcohol has never been anything but bitter to me, to the point of being undrinkable, so in a way I saw the rest of the story coming as soon as I heard that line.
The record unfolds as a tightly wound batch of songs, jabbing us with a feeling and a melody, never staying too long on one theme before needing to tell another batch of truths. It's as if there isn't enough time on a record to say everything Jax wants to say, so she flies through the songs to get as many of them in as possible. That gives the record momentum even in the quieter moments, and a sense of urgency I don't always hear in bluesy music. The only drawback to this approach is that there may not be enough times Jax stretches out and shreds the fretboard. For as sensual as the record can be, the guitars could use a bit more of her fingers dancing across the neck the way they do on the skin of the characters in the songs.
This is where the generational divide I was talking about comes back into play. Jax sounds youthful singing in all her revelry, enjoying every minute of her self-discovery. That is a process I should have completed already, and is full of regrets and depression for the ways it hasn't come to pass. We are in different places in our lives, and I can't muster the same optimism for the future that Jax has. It's admirable, and it makes for a better record than the alternative.
There is clear growth from "Underdog Anthems" to "Only The Wild Ones". Jax sounds more assured, more resolute, and more like an artist who knows exactly who she wants to be. Judging by this record, that is more than enough.
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